


To Have and Have Not

by grrriliketigers



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grrriliketigers/pseuds/grrriliketigers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rusty falls for a straight male friend, and snaps at Sharon when she tries to comfort him. Turns out that she understands what he’s going through a lot better than he would have expected. (requested by until-the-next-time) with a little added matchmaking and scheming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brief Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> For fuckyeahbrendasharon.tumblr.com's Month of Love

Rusty let himself into the apartment and gave Sharon a nod as he passed by the living room. She listened intently to the person on the other end of the phone and beckoned for the teenager to approach and then wait. 

He shifted from one foot to the other. Of course he knew what the call was likely to be about but he wasn’t going to fess up to it that easily. 

“Of course.” Sharon drawled into the phone. “Thank you for calling me.” 

Sharon clicked off the portable phone and set it back in the cradle. “Rusty, that was your guidance counselor at school.”

Rusty shrugged. “And?”

“And she tells me that you’ve been having… issues with another boy at school?” 

Rusty shrugged, “I don’t know. Whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

“Ms. Connolly seems to think it is.” 

Rusty sighed heavily, gripping the strap of his backpack. “Am I getting expelled for being gay?” 

“What? _No_!” Sharon furrowed her brow and shook her head, “… _what_?”

“Oh come on, you had to figure I was gay.” He grumbled. 

“No, no, I mean, why would you leap to that conclusion?” Sharon snorted, “you’re not getting expelled, you’re not even in trouble.” 

“I’m not?” 

She shook her head.

“Then I repeat: it’s not a big deal.” He shifted to his other foot. “So can I go now?”

Instead of dismissing him she sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to her. He just managed to bite back an eye roll as he dropped his backpack and slumped down onto the couch. 

“Ms. Connolly was concerned that you seemed to have stopped going to chess club, stopped going to the study sessions and hanging out with your friend Paul all together. She’s just concerned about you.”

“Nothing to be concerned about.” He shrugged noncommittally. 

Sharon held up a finger as he started to push himself up. “Am I to assume by your expectation that you were being expelled from school because of your sexuality that it has something to do with your friend Paul?” 

“You’re the detective.” He grumbled dejectedly. 

She quirked a small smile. “I’m the _Captain_.” She got serious again. “Did something happen between you and Paul.”

“I super don’t want to talk about this with you, Sharon, no offense.”

“Why don’t you want to talk to me about it?”

“Well, apart from it being kinda weird to talk to you about sex because you’re, like, practically my mother _and_ you’re a woman _and_ you're straight. Like, seriously, what would you even know about it?” 

“Rusty, I’m just concerned about you. Did something happen between you and Paul? 

“No, nothing happened.” He snapped. “He’s just the most perfect guy and he just started dating this girl.” 

Sharon nodded knowingly, “all the good men are married or straight, right?”

“You don’t have to be mean about it.” 

“It was meant as levity, I’m sorry.” 

He shrugged, “whatever. Like I said, what would you know about it?” 

“Oh, kid.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “You are far from the first non-heterosexual person who fell for someone unattainable and, I promise, you shan’t be the last.” 

He frowned. 

“When I was in high school back in the dark ages,” she started, trying to lighten the mood a tad. A micro-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and was gone as quickly as it appeared. She continued, “I fell madly in love with the algebra teacher.”

“You fell in love with a nun?” He narrowed his eyes at her. 

She smirked, “not _all_ the teachers at Catholic schools were nuns. No, her name was Christine Knowles, she had this long flame red hair and an Irish brogue.” 

“A brogue?” 

“A very thick Irish accent.” Sharon explained. 

“So what happened?” He asked, attempting to hide the fact that he was relatively interested in her story. He thought that perhaps she hadn’t always been the rule-abiding always-do-well she was now. 

“The same thing that always happens when a student has a debilitating crush on a teacher, I suppose. A lot of languishing in my feelings and tumultuous hormones. A lot of _understanding_ poetry and relating to the tortured souls of the artists.” 

“So you didn’t ever actually do anything with her?” 

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed.” 

“I am a little. It would have been a more interesting story.” 

“I’m sorry my life isn’t more amusing.” 

“ _I’m_ sorry your life isn’t more amusing.” Rusty snorted. 

“I just… I do understand what you’re going through.”

Rusty sighed, “I knew that nothing was going to happen but it was like I could pretend, you know?”

She nodded, “I know.”

“So you’re like one of those ‘gay until graduation’ women?” He asked, loath to talk about his own feelings. 

She smirked. “No, I’m one of those ‘bisexual’ women.” 

“I thought bisexuality wasn’t real.”

“Why would you think that?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess just… how can you find both genders equally attractive?” 

“How can you find pizza and cheeseburgers equally delicious?”

Rusty scoffed, “that’s not the same thing.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.” 

“So have you had relationships with women too?” 

“It can be trickier having relationships with women. It’s hard to know who’d be interested in me were I to pursue it. It’s so much less effort to date men but I have had relationships with women as well.”

“Anyone I know?” Rusty had a mischievous smirk in his eye. 

“This is in the strictest of confidence.” Sharon insisted sternly. Mainly she didn’t want Provenza to hear and use it as fodder for his sarcastic remarks. He nodded emphatically before she continued. “I had a couple of dates with Andrea Hobbs.” 

In reality it had been a couple of quick and sweaty encounters in the dark depths of her Internal Affairs office as a means to blow off steam – but obviously the boy didn’t need to know that. 

“So Andrea Hobbs is your type?” 

Sharon bobbled her head noncommittally. “Yes and no.” 

“So, like, who’s your type? Amy?”

“Amy is certainly very beautiful but she’s so young. Mostly I feel motherly toward her, if anything.” Sharon admitted. 

“Emma?”

“I find her too disagreeable to think of her as anything else – except also very young.” Sharon knew that he was fast approaching the end of the women that he knew they both knew. Pretty much the only women who remained were Cynthia from CPFS and – 

“Brenda?” 

She swallowed hard and she could tell that it hadn’t gone unnoticed. He smirked, knowing he’d hit the nail on the head. 

“So Brenda is your type.” He leaned back coyly and she couldn’t help the slight blush in her cheeks. “I thought you hated her.” 

“Not at all.” 

“Lieutenant Provenza said you hate her.” 

“With all due respect to Lieutenant Provenza, he doesn’t know a thing about me.” She frowned. “It’s certainly true that, in the beginning, Brenda and I were usually at odds over one thing or another but I have so much respect for her as an officer – ”

“And you _looove_ her.” Rusty teased but instantly regretted it when Sharon’s eyebrows knit in a small wince. 

“I suppose I do.” She said softly. “But she is very married and besides which would never think of me in that way…” 

“I’m sorry, Sharon.” 

She cleared her throat. “What do you say we drown our sorrows in a pepperoni pizza?” 

“Okay,” he nodded, “do you want me to call and order it?”

“Please.” 

He retreated into the other room to make the call, leaving Sharon alone with her thoughts and her memories of the sassy Georgian. She remembered her fondly. Their intense encounters had been perfect fodder for her lonely nights and her unconventionality a solace in Sharon’s usually rigid life. 

If she were honest with herself she’d have to admit that she was then and was now hopelessly in love with said blonde firecracker. 

Her heart ached at the thought. She heard Rusty coming back down the hallway and she steeled herself. She would consume an ungodly amount of pizza, drink a few glasses of wine and try in vain to put Brenda Leigh Johnson out of her mind once and for all. 

**

Rusty was seated in the coffee shop around the corner from the LAPD where he’d been setting up to study since he was out of round the clock intensive supervision. He sipped his black coffee as he flipped the next page in his book. 

He’d been thinking a lot about his conversation with Sharon about their respective sexualities. If anything, it had made him feel much better about his own situation but he’d clearly brought up negative feelings in Sharon. 

Sure, she still smiled at him and asked him about his day and corrected him when he was wrong about something. She still ran her division with an iron fist and went on about the rules whenever she felt someone needed a refresher. But there was undeniably something in her eyes that had changed; her smile faltered before it spread across her face. 

The bell dinged indicating that a new patron had entered the café. He didn’t look up until he heard the familiar southern drawl ordering some sugary concoction. He pulled out his earbuds and gave a little wave. “Brenda.”

She turned and smiled at him. “Hi Rusty.” 

He was stunned. He couldn’t believe it. It was as if his thinking about her had caused her to materialize. 

The barista handed her her double chocolate iced mocha and she stepped up to his table. “Do you want to sit?” He asked, gesturing to the empty chair. 

She shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t want to intrude.” She insisted but made no move to leave. 

“No,” he gathered up his books and papers. “I just finished up an assignment. I’d love the company.” 

Brenda sank gracefully into the seat, taking a long drag on her drink. “You clean up good, kid.” 

He shrugged, “thanks.” He looked her over for a second. “You look mostly the same, I guess.” 

She smiled, “that’s a good thing, all things considered.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Oh…” she started but blew out a breath, waving him off, “it’s nothing you have to worry about.” 

There was silence between them. Rusty didn’t want her to leave but he had no idea what to say to her or what he was hoping to accomplish. Brenda had neither any place better to go nor the desire to go home. So she sat there, sipping her drink while Rusty studied the dings in the table. 

After a while they began talking about the unpleasant Emma Rios and peripherally about the night that they both had almost died. The conversation was relatively surface, all in all, but it served its purpose. 

Rusty’s phone beeped and he glanced at it. After reading the text he looked at the time and realized they’d been sitting together for nearly two hours. “I have to go.” 

“Oh.” Brenda’s face fell slightly. She could sit there by herself but she’d just lost her excuse. “Of course.”

“Maybe… maybe I can give you my cell and we could, I don’t know, have coffee again sometime.” 

“Sure. Or dinner.” She replied quickly, pulling out her own phone. 

They exchanged numbers and said goodbye awkwardly before Rusty slung his backpack over his shoulder. He started to walk down the block toward the LAPD car park. He flagged down the silver Hyundai when it almost passed him. 

Sharon threw on her blinker as she pulled to the side. “I would have picked you up at the café.” Sharon smiled. 

He shrugged, tossing his backpack into the backseat. 

**

Another couple of weeks passed before he actually broached the subject of meeting up with Brenda. They’d been exchanging texts at a rate of one or two responses every couple of days. 

They’d agreed that they would get dinner on Wednesday night of that week and that she would pick him up at seven. She hadn’t bothered to ask if it was okay with his legal guardian, not having children of her own it wasn’t something she considered. He hadn’t said anything to Sharon but it didn’t make a difference anyway, he had no intention of actually going out with Brenda. 

**

Wednesday rolled around and instead of going home after work and having to see Fritz Brenda waited around reading BBC news articles until it was time to leave. She only passed the apartment building twice looking for parking before she realized that the parking lot was subterranean. 

She fussed with her clothes in the elevator ride up to the eleventh floor. Elevators made her nervous. She felt a little silly as she watched the numbers climb. Was she really so desperate to be out of the house that she made dinner plans with a sixteen year old boy whose only common thread was that they’d been in a life threatening situation together. A situation which Brenda had facilitated no less. 

Ultimately, yes, any potential awkwardness was worth the distraction. 

Brenda took a deep breath as she stood in front of 1102, gripping her keys tightly, she rang the bell. 

Sharon looked up from her laptop. She looked at Rusty who conspicuously didn’t look up. She pushed her chair out and walked over to the front door and peered through the peep hole. 

Sharon’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the blonde. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard. Instinctively her hands flew to her hair to fluff and primp before she caught herself and pulled the door open. 

Sharon smiled pleasantly and Brenda’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Captain…” 

“Yes, Chief, what can I do for you?” 

“Um, I, uh,” she blushed crimson. “I’m here to pick up Rusty… for dinner…” 

Sharon blinked in surprise. “Rusty?” She turned and called to her young charge. 

He stood and joined the two women in the doorway. “Hey.”

“Are you ready to go?” Brenda asked hopefully. 

“I actually got a ton of homework today and I don’t think I can go out…” He shrugged his shoulders, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sharon, why don’t you go?”

Sharon’s mouth fell open. In that second she knew that he’d set her up. He was going to catch hell, he could see it in her eyes. She grit her teeth, having no idea how to answer. 

“How ‘bout it, Captain?” Brenda asked. Trading one awkward night for another was hardly a hardship. 

“Um. Yes. Okay.” She looked down at her clothes. “Let me just change and talk to Rusty.” 

Sharon turned to go down the hallway, “uh, please come in, I’ll just be a moment.” 

“Thanks.” Brenda stepped inside. 

Sharon pushed Rusty down the hallway, “ _what were you thinking?_ ” She demanded in a hushed tone. 

“I just thought you’d like - ”

“Like what? Reliving painful memories? A pseudo-date with someone I can never have?”

“You never know!” 

“She’s _married_ , Rusty.” Sharon snapped. “No amount of wishing or hoping changes that or makes her interested in me.” 

“So are you not going to go?” 

She sighed heavily and thought about it for a moment, “I think it would be more awkward not to go at this point and you dragged her all the way down here.” She rubbed her temple tiredly. “I guess I’m going.” 

“Good.”

“This conversation isn’t over, Rusty.” 

“I had a feeling it wasn’t.” He admitted with a small sigh. The way he figured it was if the evening went well the rest of the conversation would likely be much more pleasant.


	2. Great Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rated M

“Do you want me to drive?” Sharon asked as the elevator let them out into the parking garage. 

“I’ll drive, I know where we’re going.” Brenda let them into the car. 

“Where are we going?” Sharon asked, fussing with the hem of her skirt. 

“Aw So-Lell.” 

Sharon narrowed her eyes a little, “do you mean _Au Soleil_?” 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

“No, not really.” 

Brenda shrugged, putting on her blinker and changing lanes. 

“Well, if we are thinking of the same place it’s actually back in the other direction.” 

“I don’t think so.” Brenda frowned. “I looked it up before I came.” 

“Did you circle the block a couple of times before parking? Because I’m pretty sure you got turned around.” Sharon insisted. “Au Soleil is one hundred percent back in the other direction.” 

“I’m driving.” Brenda pursed her lips. 

“Or some semblance of it.” Sharon murmured, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“I’ve lived in Los Angeles for eight years, I can find my way around, thank you very much.” 

Sharon turned and gaped at her. “Sweetheart,” she started condescendingly. “I have lived in L.A. for _sixty_ years.” 

“ _You’re sixty_?” 

Sharon snorted. “Yes.”

“You aren’t!” 

“ _Yes._ ” Sharon rolled her eyes. “I’m actually sixty one.” 

“You’re not. Shut up.” 

Sharon groaned and held her hands in her hand and mumbled, “this was a mistake.” 

**

“What do you mean you gave away the reservation?” Brenda demanded, staring menacingly at the maître d. 

The thirty something man in the white shirt and white bow tie did not flinch. “We have a policy to hold a table no longer than twenty minutes. We are a very popular restaurant, ma’am.”

“I was a CIA agent. I kept this country safe for people like you.” 

Sharon gently took Brenda by the arm. The touch surprised her and she turned to lock eyes with Sharon. “Come on, killer, I know of plenty of other restaurants.” 

“Your friend is entirely correct.” The maître d smirked. “Maybe next time you should aim to be _early_ for your reservation.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed, “fat chance I’m coming back here.” 

“ _Come on,_ ” Sharon pulled her out onto the street. “It’s not the end of the world.” 

“It’s just stupid. We’re only half an hour late.” 

“Maybe we should just call it a bust.” Sharon suggested. 

“No.” Brenda furrowed her brow. 

“Then I’m driving.” Sharon grabbed the keys from Brenda’s hand. “What are you in the mood for? Are you sold on French or do you want something else?”

Brenda pouted a little but didn’t fuss about Sharon usurping the keys. They got into the car and Sharon put the key in the ignition. “To be frank, I’m a little soured on French.” 

“Do you like tapas? I know this excellent - ”

“No tapas.” Brenda whined. “It’s Fritz’s stupid favorite.” 

“Alright then… Italian?” 

Brenda shrugged noncommittally. 

“Mediterranean?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Chinese? Thai? Vietnamese? Korean? Indian? Ethiopian? Sushi? Hamburgers?” Sharon stopped to think for a moment. “A wine bar?”

Brenda perked up despite herself. “I could go for that…” 

“Okay.” Sharon threw on her turn signal and took a sudden u-turn. 

Sharon easily weaved her way down the busy streets, taking side roads and signaling and checking behind her an maintaining speed. Brenda realized she should have let her drive from the get go; she was obviously in her element. 

The wine bar that Sharon had chosen was dimly lit and chic and they were seated right away. Sharon ordered a Chardonnay and an antipasto italiano and Brenda ordered a Merlot. 

Brenda kept stealing glances at Sharon over the top of her menu. She was emboldened by the fact that Sharon didn’t seem to notice. Sharon, of course, was watching Brenda with her peripheral vision and held self-consciously still. 

“Do you recommend anything?” Brenda said after they’d been silent for what felt like forever. 

“I’m trying to decide between the Fettuccine Carbonara and the Salmon Fillet.” She looked up and actually met Brenda’s eyes. “I’ve never had anything here that I didn’t like.” 

“How’s the Lobster Ravioli?”

Sharon grinned, “it’s excellent.” 

**

Sharon studied her face in the mirror as she rubbed the rouge in. “So?” Sharon jumped and turned to see Rusty. 

“So what?” She smirked, turning back to the mirror. 

“Do you have another date with Brenda?” 

She turned her full attention to him. “I’m not dating Brenda.”

“Like hell you aren’t.” He grinned. “You go out to dinner with her all the time and you primp and put on make-up and you always get back really late. You’re definitely dating her.” 

“Rusty, she’s married.” 

“I hear you saying that… and yet…” 

“Rusty!” 

“Okay fine, if you’re not dating her put on something that doesn’t show so much cleavage. Go ahead, change into your modest work dress.” He stepped back and motioned toward her bedroom. “Go ahead.” 

“Stop that.” She scowled. 

“When you go out who pays?”

She shrugged a little, “we take turns paying.”

“ _Dating_.” He crossed his arms across his chest. 

**

“You’re going out.” Fritz said with an annoyed sigh. 

“I am.” Brenda replied curtly, brushing on her mascara in the bathroom mirror. 

“With Captain Raydor.” 

“Yes.” 

He hovered in the doorway and she continued to put on her make-up. He folded his arms and stared her down and she steadfastly ignored him. He wanted a fight and she was goddamn tired of it. After applying her lipstick and smacking her lips together. 

“Don’t wait up.” She grabbed her trench coat on the way to the front door. 

“Brenda, we need to have a talk.” 

She stopped at the front door and turned to her husband. “No. We don’t.” She snarled. “Take it like a man or just leave.” 

“Maybe I will.” He said softly. 

She scoffed, shaking her head, “you won’t.” 

“Goddamnit, Brenda.” He cursed, gritting his teeth. “ _Goddamnit_.” 

“You’re never going to leave me. You’d never give up sitting around being a victim.” Brenda sneered. “You just want to sit around and blame me for everything you don’t have and it’s easier to blame me than actually _do_ something.” 

She turned to go and Fritz grabbed her by the wrist. She yanked her hand away, nostrils flaring in anger. “You ever touch me like that again and _you will not live to regret it_.” 

Fritz took one step back, holding up his hands but not looking very apologetic. She shot him one last withering glare before slamming the door behind her.

Brenda got into her car and shot Sharon a quick text to let her know that she’d be a little late. 

** 

“I saw Fritz at work today.” Sharon said, setting down her cocktail. “He’s looking kind of haggard.” 

“I don’t want to talk about Fritz.” Brenda shook her head. 

Sharon hesitated for a moment, “is everything okay?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Brenda picked up her merlot glass only to remember that it was empty. “I just want to enjoy my time here with you.” 

“Would you like to split a slice of cheesecake?” 

Brenda smiled. Maybe it was the novelty of Sharon, maybe it was that Sharon didn’t ask anything of her, maybe it was that Sharon didn’t expect her to be something she wasn’t. Maybe it was a lot of things that made her well up with warmth and affection around the older woman. 

Whatever it was Brenda used that feeling like a safety blanket. She wrapped herself up in it whenever her day was annoying or whenever she just didn’t have the patience to deal with Fritz. 

She had the sudden urge to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of Sharon’s skin against her own. She blushed a little but the mood lighting allowed her her discretion. 

Brenda reached across the table an covered Sharon’s hand with her own. For a split second panic registered across Sharon’s usually stoic features. Brenda thought about pulling back but she couldn’t bring herself to let go now that she’d felt the soft skin. 

She slid her fingers underneath Sharon’s palm, gently turning the hand over and ghosting her fingertips over the sensitive palm. Sharon shivered slightly, enraptured by the touch and the careful ministrations. Brenda gave Sharon’s hand a little squeeze and Sharon smiled a little. Brenda’s fingers continued up, brushing against her pulse point as she moved up her arm. Sharon let out a slow breath. 

The waiter walked up to them and inquired about dessert which Brenda declined and Sharon wanted to throw her fork at him in frustration at having been interrupted. Without the added distraction of the dessert the evening would be coming to a close. That was a fact that made Sharon Raydor very sad. 

Brenda signed the bill and they stood up. They were silent as they exited the restaurant. Sharon was about to speak when Brenda said, “I want to go to a bar. I feel like a beer.” 

“I think I know a place.” Sharon nodded with a smile. 

Brenda threaded her arm through Sharon’s, leaning into her. 

When they entered the bar Sharon realized the mistake. She stopped and tried to turn them around. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s, um, it’s a lesbian bar. We can go somewhere else.”

“It’s fine.” Brenda insisted, moving past her and zeroing in on a corner booth. Sharon followed her helplessly. “At least this way we won’t get hit on by obnoxious drunk men.” 

“That’s true.” Sharon agreed. “Do you have a beer brand?” 

“No.” She shook her head. 

“I’ll be right back.” Sharon walked up to the bar and the bartender signaled that she’d be with her in a moment. Sharon didn’t mind the wait. She was trying to stay calm. She’d thought maybe that spending time with Brenda as a friend would quell her feelings but so far it had only deepened them. 

Now she was in a lesbian bar with the object of her affection. 

The bartender leaned on her arms, leaning close to Sharon. “What can I get you, sweetheart?” She purred and Sharon bit the inside of her cheek. 

“Um, what do you have on tap?” 

Brenda peered over to the bar and frowned at the bartender. She knew that bartenders worked for tips but she would have thought that the woman would stop before prostituting herself. She told herself that she was offended at the lack of professionalism. 

Sharon returned with two frosted mugs. “I got two different ones.” She said, setting them down. “If you don’t like this one we can switch.” 

“Thanks.” Brenda sipped the beer. She didn’t know why she was craving beer. She never drank beer. 

“I started a tab if you want more or something else.” 

“Why is marriage so hard?” Brenda sighed. 

“Because men are involved?” Sharon offered. Brenda looked up at her and found her grinning playfully. Brenda tucked a lock of her blonde waves behind her ear and couldn’t help smiling back. 

Sharon shrugged a little. “I think it’s just really hard changing for someone else. Maybe the trick is finding someone you don’t need to compromise for. Or maybe if you find that one right person then you don’t _mind_ changing.” 

“Is that what went wrong with you and Jackson?” 

Sharon nodded. “More or less.” 

“My first husband was just a bastard. Fritz is like a boy scout. How could I ever hurt him?” She demanded, staring into the thinning head on her beer. “But I just want to. Every time I look at him I want to hurt him.” 

Sharon laid her hand palm up on the table and Brenda threaded her fingers through Sharon’s. Brenda liked that Sharon was supportive without throwing around bullshit aphorisms. She couldn’t talk to her mama – she would just tell her that ‘ _marriage is hard_ ’ but was it supposed to be? Shouldn’t it be easy if you’re in love? Shouldn’t it be possible to stay in love with someone?

Brenda’s eyes focused on Sharon’s thumb tracing lazy circles on her hand. Brenda leaned down and kissed Sharon’s knuckle. 

Sharon’s breath caught in her throat and Brenda felt her tense but didn’t loosen her grip. 

**

The bar was down the street from Sharon’s building and they left Sharon’s car parallel parked on a side street as they leaned on each other all the way back to the apartment. 

“You can’t drive yet.” Sharon announced, taking Brenda’s hand and leading her to the elevator. 

Brenda had no objections as she followed obediently. Though it was tempting to take a cab back to her house and climb into bed with Fritz stinking of pale ale and cosmos she was reluctant to let Sharon go. 

The feel of Sharon’s hand in hers was perfect. It didn’t feel like it did when Fritz held her hand; his big hand engulfed hers, Sharon’s hand encircled without being presumptuous. 

The elevator doors slid open and Sharon pressed the button for eleven. She could feel Brenda’s eyes on her but she couldn’t bring herself to look. Sharon felt fingertips brush her cheek and when she turned Brenda pressed her lips to the older woman’s. 

Sharon sighed against the soft lips, leaning into it. Brenda, satisfied that it was a mutual desire, launched herself at Sharon, knocking her back against the elevator wall. Sharon wrapped her arms around Brenda’s waist, her hands slipping down to feel the perfectly rounded ass. 

Brenda grinned against Sharon’s lips, kissing her harder, moaning encouragingly. The kisses were wet and sloppy and desperate as Brenda groped Sharon’s breasts through her cashmere sweater. 

When the elevator opened again Sharon dragged Brenda down the hallway, unwillingly to break the kiss. Finally, digging through her purse, fumbling with her keys she had to release the blonde. Brenda pressed enticingly against her back as Sharon’s drunk attempts at unlocking the door delayed their entry. 

Once the door opened they spilled into the apartment. Sharon caught them before they tumbled over. “Shh, shh, shh.” She whispered. She peered into the living room, calling very softly. “Rusty?” 

They were met with silence. “He’s in bed.” 

“Which is where we should be, Captain.” Brenda purred, stepping into Sharon’s personal space and brushing their lips together. 

“It’s this way…” Sharon breathed, guiding them backwards until her back collided with the door. 

Brenda closed the door behind them, shoving Sharon onto the bed and shrugging out of her jacket and pulling her t-shirt off. Brenda stepped between Sharon’s legs and Sharon unclasped her bra with ease, capturing a nipple with a hungry mouth. 

Brenda’s head lolled back, biting her lip against a moan. Sharon’s free hand snaked up Brenda’s skirt, teasing her inner thighs before pressing against her hot centre. Brenda gasped and nearly collapsed on top of her. Sharon released Brenda and scooted back on the bed, rising to her knees to pull her dress off. 

Brenda dropped her skirt to the floor, standing in just her soft pink panties. Sharon had foregone a bra so Brenda just had to contend with a pair of panty hose and the sexiest pair of black lacy underwear she’d ever seen. Sharon sat back against the pillows starting to push the stockings down. 

Brenda covered her hands and started to ease the nylons down, pressing kisses to each new inch of exposed skin. Sharon was writhing and moaning and ready to come then and there by the time she’d finished. 

Brenda grabbed Sharon’s hips roughly, pulling her closer and dragging her panties down and off. She held them up, “do you just wear these all the time or were you maybe hoping a little?” She grinned. 

“I dress up to go out with you because I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time I met you.” Sharon admitted. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Brenda breathed. She lowered her head to Sharon’s sex, lapping up the abundant wetness. 

Sharon gripped fistfuls of the sheets. 

“So you’ve thought about this… about us…” Brenda punctuated her statement with carefully aimed strokes of her tongue. 

“Uh-huh.” Sharon whimpered. 

“I’ve been thinking about it too…” Brenda grinned, “I’ve always wondered what you look like when you come.” 

Brenda’s fingers thrust into Sharon, setting a quick and deep rhythm, pressing into the sensitive tissue. Sharon trembled and squirmed and bit her lip. Brenda swirled the pad of her thumb over Sharon’s clit and Sharon had to bite down harder to keep from screaming as her orgasm tore through her. 

Brenda’s fingers continued pumping as Sharon’s muscles clamped down. 

When Sharon opened her eyes Brenda was hovered above her. Sharon pulled her down, feeling the weight of Brenda’s body against hers sent a new surge of arousal through her already stimulated body. 

**

Sharon’s breath was warm on Brenda’s shoulder, her soft hair tickling her bare back. Brenda held tightly onto the arm that was wrapped around her. As Brenda had drifted off she was afraid she was going to regret the night’s escapades. 

To her pleasant surprise she regretted nothing – least of all her _three_ orgasms. Maybe she regretted waking up so early. Sharon shifted behind her, stretching tired limbs. 

Why was she awake so early? Finally the ringing phone registered and she leaned over the bed to grab the discarded monster purse and pulled out the offending phone in time to see it was Fritz and that she’d already missed it. 

She dropped it to the floor and turned around in Sharon’s arms, kissing her lips. Sharon smiled, her eyes fluttering open. “What time is it?” She bit back a yawn. 

“It’s early.” Brenda answered. “I think I should go home.” 

For a millisecond Sharon frowned and then steeled her features. “Of course.” 

“I don’t want to. Believe me.” Brenda lamented, hiking a leg over Sharon’s hip. “Last night was amazing.” 

Sharon pressed lazy kisses to Brenda’s collarbone. “Your body is amazing.” 

“Do you want to get dinner after work tonight?” Brenda smiled hopefully. “A real proper dinner.” 

Sharon laughed, “our dinners have been improper?” 

“I mean, I bring you flowers and take you out somewhere nice and open doors for you and pull out your chair for you.” Brenda insisted. “A proper southern courting.” 

Sharon slid her fingers into Brenda’s hair, “absolutely anything for you.” She whispered, capturing her lips again. 

Brenda dressed hastily and Sharon wrapped a robe around herself. She wanted a cup of coffee and a shower before putting on her clothes. 

The two women lingered by the front door for a few minutes. Brenda leaned up and kissed her again. Sharon groaned playfully. “Just go or we’ll have to call in ‘sick’.” 

Brenda grinned, “I’ll pick you up at eight.” 

“It’s a date.” 

Once the door was closed Sharon turned, jumping when she saw Rusty rounding the corner from the kitchen. “ _Not a word_.” Sharon warned pointedly. 

Rusty held up his hands. “Wasn't going to say anything...”


	3. For Whom The Bell Tolls

“I have to go,” Brenda whispered even as she pulled Sharon in for a languid kiss. 

“I know,” Sharon stroked her cheek, murmuring against her lips. 

“I wish I didn’t.” 

“I know.” 

Brenda studied her face. “What are you thinking about?” 

Sharon shrugged, “I don’t know. I just really like being with you.” 

Brenda wrapped her arms around Sharon and buried her head against Sharon’s collarbone. 

**

The key turned in the lock and she clutched the keys in her hand so the jingling wouldn’t give her away. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit her as she entered the kitchen and upon seeing the mug and plate of toast she knew she was busted. 

She dropped her purse and keys by the door and grabbed a mug from the rack and poured her coffee. 

Fritz appeared in the doorway, watching her accusingly as she poured in the creamer and spooned in the sugar and did her best to ignore him. 

Brenda tucked her skirt under her and sat down across from his place setting. 

He sank down into his seat. After a long tense silence Fritz asked, “did you really think sleeping in separate bedrooms would keep me from realizing you hardly ever sleep here anymore?” 

She shrugged, “I just didn’t want to wake you when I come in, dear.” 

“There’s another man, isn’t there?”

She scoffed, “no, there isn’t.” 

“Don’t bullshit me, Brenda.” He snarled. “You wouldn’t stay out every night if you weren’t fucking someone.” 

“ _I didn’t say I wasn’t fucking someone, did I_?” She snapped. “She makes me feel accepted and supported.”

“And I don’t?” He demanded. 

“You make me feel _tolerated_!” She admitted. “I hate seeing myself through your eyes!” 

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, _honey_ , but maybe that’s because you’re _not_ a very good person.” He scoffed. “You’re selfish and think only of yourself.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t give a shit about your stupid problems!” Brenda pursed her lips. “I’m sick of you strutting around here playing the victim, wrapped up in your smug self-righteousness.” 

“If you - ”

“Go ahead, Fritz, tell me how I’m the root of all your problems! Oh you poor long suffering man. If you weren’t saddled with such a bitch you’d be fucking President by now. _However do you put up with her_? Sharon never - ”

“ _Sharon_?” He repeated incredulously, his nostrils flaring in anger. “ _Sharon fucking Raydor_?” 

“She’s smart and funny and thoughtful!” 

“ _You’re fucking Sharon Raydor_?” He demanded. 

“ _Yes._ ” She growled. “I’m _fucking_ Sharon Raydor and I love every goddamn second of it.” 

Fritz grabbed his toast plate and threw it and it smashed against the far wall. Brenda picked up her mug and hurled it at the opposite wall. Two could play at that game _and Brenda Leigh Johnson didn’t lose_. The two were still for a few minutes before Brenda stood and grabbed her purse and keys and slammed the back door behind her. 

Behind the wheel and pulling out onto the street, she felt tears roll down her cheeks. The adrenaline was coursing through her body and her hand shook as she put on her turn signal. She’d just go to work, calm down and see Sharon that evening and gain some semblance of clarity of the situation. 

**

“Do we know who recorded the video?” Sharon asked, turning to Tao. 

“Not exactly but we can get a warrant for the isp and get an address for the poster and probably the person who took it.” He answered. 

“Good. In the meantime I want to interview the math teacher again.” 

“You got it.” Flynn nodded, reaching for the phone. 

“Raydor!” 

Sharon turned to see Fritz approaching her. “Agent Howard - ”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demanded. 

She blinked in surprise, “excuse me?”

“You’re a fucking home wrecker! I hope you’re fucking proud of yourself!” 

Sharon blushed a deep crimson, her heart stopping. She reached out and put a calming hand on his bicep. “Let’s talk in my office.” She said softly. 

“No.” He snapped, “I’m not going to talk in your office. I’m not going to excuse you because only a conscience-less bastard fucks another man’s wife.” 

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed even though the entire state of California probably heard him. 

Fritz turned to the stunned Major Crimes staff. “Lock up your wives, gentlemen, because Sharon fucking Raydor likes to take what isn’t hers.”

“ _For fuck’s sake, shut up_!” She cursed, trembling with embarrassment and anger. “How dare you come here and berate me in front of my squad? Brenda makes her own decisions and it’s hardly my fault that you don’t make her happy!” 

Fritz shoved Sharon roughly with both hands and she collided sharply with the whiteboard, knocking the pictures askew and erasing a large portion of writing with her flailing arms, trying to stay upright. 

The squad all leapt to their feet and rushed to her aide. Provenza grabbed him by the arm, yanking him backward. “ _Take a walk, Howard._ ” 

Fritz struggled half-heartedly but ultimately let Flynn and Provenza drag him to the break room to cool off. 

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Sanchez asked politely, taking her arm gently, coaxing her back onto steadier footing. 

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She said shakily. She looked around the room at all the faces staring at her with concern and shock. Her eyes landed on Provenza returning to the bullpen. She felt her eyes start to water and she felt her cheeks get hot again. 

“Excuse me.” She breathed, turning and hurrying out of the room, breaking into a run once she got out of the murder room. 

Amy took a step forward and Provenza held up a hand. “Leave her be.” He said, “she needs a minute.” 

Provenza felt some solidarity with the Captain – having been on the wrong end of an angry husband once or twice in his day. The feeling of empathizing with the woman was an entirely new feeling but it was comforting to know that she was just as capable of poor judgment as the rest of the world.

**

Sharon bolted for the parking garage. She wanted to get away, far away, escape from her life even for just a few minutes. Why did everything have to be complicated? Why wasn’t anything ever easy?

She collided with her silver Hyundai, not having slowed enough by the time she reached it. She yanked on the door handle and it didn’t budge; she patted down her blazer pockets but she didn’t have the key. 

Leaning on the door she sank down until she was on the ground wedged between her car and the red Toyota next to her. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her face tiredly. She’d stopped crying; she was likely out of tears. She was anything but sad – she was angry, embarrassed, petrified. She supposed she should count herself lucky that Fritz hadn’t slugged her. 

She wasn’t sure how she’d let the situation get so away from her. It had been so effortless to be with Brenda. Brenda came to her, spent the night with her. It was easier to forget that she was married than to deal with the implications. 

Approaching footsteps shook Sharon out of her thoughts. She listened intently and the footsteps seemed only to move closer, coming directly at her. 

“Sharon?” 

She froze. She started to slowly push herself up, not sure if she was ready to see anyone else, least of all Brenda. 

“Please, Brenda,” Sharon sighed, “I can’t do this right now.” 

“Sharon.” Brenda repeated, hurrying up to her. “Andy texted me, he told me what happened. Are you alright?”

Brenda moved to wrap her arms around Sharon but Sharon backed away through the cars. “I’m fine. Please leave me alone.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“Please.” Sharon whispered, feeling tears in her eyes again. 

Brenda reached forward and took Sharon into her arms. “I’m not going anywhere.” She insisted, “I’m here and I’m always going to be here.” 

“Brenda…”

Brenda cupped Sharon’s cheeks. “I _love_ you, Sharon. I have never been more sure of anything in my whole life. I love you and that doesn’t have to mean anything; it can mean whatever you want. I’m completely and insanely in love with you.” 

“I love you too.” Sharon breathed, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling a few tears slide down her cheeks. 

“And that makes you sad?” Brenda teased gently.

Sharon smiled ruefully. “There’s just so much to figure out.” 

“I think we’ve got the hard part already dealt with.”

“Fritz…” 

“Fritz and I were on a slow dance toward divorce long before I started seeing you.” Brenda insisted, “he’ll move on; he wasn’t happy either. He just wanted someone to blame. You can press charges.” 

“I’m not going to press charges.” She wiped at her eyes. 

“I don’t want to lose you because of this.” Brenda admitted softly. “I just want to be with you. That’s the only thing I’m sure of anymore.” 

“That’s so sappy.” Sharon laughed, wiping at her eyes again. 

“I watch a lot of romantic comedies… you had to get acquainted with my vices sooner or later.” Brenda grinned, “doesn’t mean they aren’t real feelings.” 

“I know. I believe you.” 

“So we’ll figure it out.” Brenda gave Sharon’s hands a squeeze. “ _Together_.” 

Sharon nodded and breathed out, “okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title and all chapter titles are 1940s movies


End file.
